


Vasish

by ElementKitsune



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is a small child, Fluff, Gen, Pre-cryosleep, Stormy nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementKitsune/pseuds/ElementKitsune
Summary: Sometimes, you just wake up and go see a storm with your favourite princess.(Coran and Allura go stormwatching)





	Vasish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AstroPhantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroPhantom/gifts).



> This is for AstroPhantom as part of the Voltron SS exchange. Merry Christmas!

Coran wakes up and the skies are dark. Nighttime, he concludes, but Alfor isn't breaking down his door for the sake of science, so he can't help but be confused as to _why_ , precisely, is he awake.

He gets his answer when bushy white hair falls over his nose, and into his mouth, and honestly falls over him like a white cloud of ticklish things. Coran attempts not to breathe in, or sneeze like he almost desperately wants to at the moment, but then Allura simply collapses onto his chest and makes the air whoosh out of his lungs, and Coran’s efforts are foiled by the fact that her hair is omnipresent.

"Yeff?" he mumbles through the unwanted mouthfuls, and Allura shifts until Coran's face is freed from its fluffy white confines.

"Coran!" she beams, and he waits for the real reason she'd come to him, considering that was Allura's (and Alfor's) patented _oh hello you wonderful Altean, my friend, my close close friend, almost like family really, I love you so much Coran, do you know that? ...also would you please please pretty please help me with this thing that should at least be fun?_ smile.

Coran takes a moment to sigh, then he slowly sits up and lets Allura slide down his chest into his lap.

"What is it, princess?" he asks, both amused and resigned, and she wraps her hand around his before placing a kiss to them both. The gesture of goodwill makes him smile a bit, before he gently shakes his hand free and makes sure that she's facing him. "Did you have something to ask me?"

Allura looks suddenly unsure for a moment, dwarfed by Coran and how he's looking down at her, but then the child sets her shoulders back determinedly and almost glares right up at him.

"It's the first vasish of the season!" she exclaims, and then immediately after in a quiet voice: "Would you be willing to take me out of the castle so we can see it properly?"

Coran tweaks his mustache. On one hand, the first vasish tended to be the worst, which is why the general response to fiery rocks falling from the sky had tended to be hide in the closest stable shelter until it passed. On the other hand, that was the general response to all of the vasishi and that had never stopped Coran _or_ Alfor from sneaking out to see the sky streaked with orange before.

Even though it hadn't always ended well.

"Are you _sure_ about this?" he asks, and Allura nods her head up and down and up and down and up and down, until Coran finally catches her chin so she doesn't nod enough to make herself dizzy.

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise," she huffs, then slips off of his lap and onto the ground before she starts heading towards the doorway.

As Coran had fallen asleep in his day clothes again, he immediately follows after her. That way if one of the many workers in the Castle of Lions spots them, she wouldn't be immediately taken back to her rooms and then have to break out again.

"Do you mind if I ask why you chose me in particular for sneaking out to experience your first vasish?" he asks lightly, and Allura slows down enough to let Coran stride over to her side. He could, of course, always do so without Allura’s permission, but last time leaded to an impromptu race around the castle and crashing into an unfortunate engineer.

Then she stops and starts looking down at the ground.

"Father is busy," she says quietly. "And Mother is sick. That's why he's so busy."

Coran hums, and pretends not to notice when Allura ducks behind her hair in order to hide her face.

"You don't want to interrupt them," he guesses, and sees her nod out of the corner of his eyes. (he knows better than to look at her head on right now)

Then, Coran exhales a great sigh, and takes them outside.

The sky isn't streaked orange with the falling lishike yet, but there are some very noticeable spots of charred ground and red-hot rocks, so the vasish has definitely started.

"Do you know what happened on Alfor's and mine's first vasish?" he asks, and Allura hums a negative response, high-pitched and hesitant. "Alfor had gone too close to one of the lishike's landing spots, and because of that, had half of his hair burnt off. Then, of course, he started running for the nearest source of water in order to dunk his head in, which was the bucket I had brought in advance, but tripped and set my moustache on fire on the way down!"

Allura gasps at that, and brings her hand to her mouth in order to muffle her laughter.

Coran winks at her, and the giggles become considerably louder. "That's why he has the ponytail now," he whispers quite loudly, and Allura blinks. "And it took me an entire decaphoeb to regrow my moustache after what he did!"

"Oh no!" she exclaims, and Coran grins at her, before scooping her up into the air and spinning her around.

After shrieking with laughter, when they stop, Allura pats his moustache gently.

"I can't imagine you without it," she tells him like a secret, and he responds back with the very same tone.

"Neither could I. But, do you know what happened immediately after?"

When she shakes her head, Coran's grin from the story fades into a smile so soft, it might even be softer than Allura's hair.

"After we managed to burn ourselves, when our parents found out, they first scolded us until our ears were ringing and our brains were liquid in our skulls, and then they showed us how to properly deal with our first vasish as they were planning to anyway."

She looks at him with surprise, eyes wide and mouth formed into a little o. Then he shifts her weight onto one arm, and takes her hand to kiss its back before letting it slip down again.

"Don't dismiss your parents so easily for the first vasish," he tells her, and lets her bury her face into his chest. Planting a kiss on the top of Allura's head (even though there was a considerable amount of strands of hair that tried to follow him away), he continues. "I know that ever since he first knew who were going to exist, Alfor has been incredibly excited for how you were going to experience your first vasish, and of course try to make it less of a disaster than ours have been. And your mother has plotted even more of it, I would guess. She tends to do that."

Allura wraps her arms around him, before she finally mutters into his torso, "What about you? Will you be there for the vasish?"

Coran blinks for a moment, and honestly forgets to respond until Allura is glaring up at him with blue-pink eyes.

"If it's a family vasish, you have to be there too," she says stubbornly, before a wry smile curls its way onto Coran's face like a juniberry petal.

"And what of Blaytz and Trigel and Gyrgan and Zarkon? Would they come along too?"

Allura shrugs, and then pulls his moustache _just_ hard enough to make it noticeable. "They could, if they wanted, but none of them _have_ to like you do.”

He hums at that, and bounces Allura up once when his arms start slipping. She makes an oofing sound, and scowls at Coran for it. “And why do none of them have to come like I do?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

Allura crosses her arms before wobbling, and requiring Coran to quickly catch her back. When steady, Allura continues to cross her arms (a tic she’d picked up from a passing diplomat) and then assumes a haughty expression.

“They’re quite good friends, but they’re not _my_ family. Or at the very least, not like you.” She then pokes just under one of his markings, and Coran mimics her expression.

“Very well then princess.” He sets her down gently, and then twirls her once before moving into a _very_ flourish-y bow himself, and tweaking his mustache. “I will follow your orders.”

When he winks, Allura giggles, and then she muffles the sound with her mouth before puffing herself up. "As you should," she says loftily, nose up in the air and hands placed firmly on her hips. "My orders are perfectly reasonable ones."

Straightening himself up, Coran mimics her position, except he is looking decidedly down while she is looking decidedly up. "I don't believe that all of them are perfectly reasonable. For example-"

Allura tackles his leg, and Coran may or may not have lost his balance and fell down. Reports of his tripping could have been greatly exaggerated. This does not stop the frankly lionish grin that appears on Allura's face from appearing and being far too smug with what she's achieved.

"Either way, it all seems to work out in my favour."

Coran gives her a Look™ before smoothly rolling onto his back and gently swatting at the air around her face and putting a lock of hair back into place from where it was frazzled.

This, of course, is the moment where a stray lishike falls next to them and quite rudely sets Coran’s mustache on fire as a reminder that the vasish is still going on.

"Quiznak," he says quietly, and attempts to ignore the incredulous look that Allura sends him when the word leaves his mouth. Then, astonishingly calmly, Coran takes the bit of his mustache that's on fire and tweaks it until he's left with one slightly charred and shorter mustache end than before.

Then, carefully inching away from the lishike, Coran promptly bolts up and grabs Allura on his way to dash into the castle because a look at the sky reveals the vasish _really_ starting. The Altean sky is very, very orange at this point, and Coran can't help but laugh at Allura's comparison: "Coran, it's even more orange than your mustache!"

"Why yes it is," he remarks, and then manages to dart out of the way of one perilously close lump of burning rock before diving into the castle and ending up on his back with a giggling tiny princess above him. And of course, hair in his mouth. That was always a factor to consider with a giggling tiny princess above you.

"Mmfwawumph," Coran comments eloquently, and Allura blinks before prying her hair away from his face.

"Hello Coran," she greets, and Coran sits up to face the outside as Allura readjusts on his lap.

Fiery rocks were falling down the sky at a faster and faster pace, with some bouncing off the castle walls and others simply striking the ground. Allura squirms a little bit before evidently finding the most comfortable position she could while Coran was sitting cross-legged, and then trains her gaze intently on the outside.

Coran hums, high than low and high again, and starts looking at the vasish himself.

"It's beautiful," he hears Allura whisper, and looking at the stormy night...

Coran can't help but see that himself.

* * *

Eventually, Allura falls asleep, and the first great wave of the vasish ends without much fanfare. The sky goes dark (although a few streaks of orange occasionally fly by and attempt to embed themselves into the castle), and this is how Alfor finds them.

“She’s just like you,” Coran comments, even as Alfor sits down next to him and runs a thumb over one of Allura’s markings. “Running around with little thought of the consequences, and always dragging me in to be the partner in crime.”

Alfor hums, high and low and high and low and high again. “You usually aid and abet the crimes in question.” Then he none-too-gently tweaks Coran’s mustache, and Coran takes a moment to lament that the mustache tweaking was another unfortunate habit that Allura inherited.

A lishike slams into the ground, and Alfor stares at it like he’s seeing the past. “Did you tell her—”

“—about you destroying my mustache? Yes.”

Allura makes a little whuffling sound in her sleep, and that’s when Coran hands her over to Alfor, whuffling and all. The look on his face is so… soft, looking down at her, and Coran wonders if he’s mirroring Alfor, if he’d looked like that during the entire vasish. (he rather thinks he might have)

“Thank you for taking care of her,” says Alfor, though he doesn’t look up. Coran clasps a hand on his shoulder, and looks at Allura, at Alfor, at the sky starting to take on orange streaks again.

“It’s my pleasure!” he exclaims, though it’s in more of a whisper so Allura isn’t disturbed. “After all,” and here he pauses, considers his words carefully because there is a difference between feelings in the back of your mind and feelings allowed out into the word. “After all, we _are_ family.”

Alfor doesn’t quite react at first, but he puts a hand on Coran’s shoulder and shakes it once (dislodging Coran’s hand in the process) before standing and moving to the direction of Allura’s room, while Coran watches the second wave of the vasish start to come.

The fiery rocks start to come down at a greater frequency and Coran crosses his legs, puts his elbows on his knees, and remains content.

And of course, admires the stormy night.


End file.
